Perfection Girls
by papaya-san
Summary: Poem 1: Because nothing tastes as good as skinny feels.
1. Anna: Thinner

So yeah.

Back-story: Anna's eating habits have caught up to her.

* * *

Perfection Girls

Thinner

People aren't nice,

Or maybe it's just me.

You have to be smart to be liked;

You have to be pretty to be liked;

But you _must_ be skinny to be loved.

Is that true?

Can I be thin?

Where can I go to get anorexia?

How much is it?

Only one body?

That's good –I have a body.

A _lot_ of a body.

I can't eat?

That's fine –hunger gives you an edge.

I'll be cold all the time?

Excellent –summer will be nice.

I'll be awake every night?

Superb –I'll have more time to get things done.

I'll be obsessed with food, calories, and exercise?

That's okay –I need to lose weight anyway.

So I won't eat and I'll exercise three times a day and I'll be thin and pretty with beautiful bones and I'll get the guy and I'll fit the clothes and I'll be God damned perfect.

I just have to be patient.

That's it.

* * *

Reviews are appreciated. Thanks to all.

Note: I did not mean to offend anyone and I don't want people to get pissed at me for uploading this and supporting ProAna. I mean, it's their body, so they should be able to do what they want with it (I live America, forgive my right to free speech). I'm sorry in advance.


	2. Hotaru: Vices

Um, wow. Here we go.

Back-story: Hotaru Imai is a sadist at heart.

* * *

Perfection Girls

Vices

Is it wrong?

Is wrong for me like this?

But then again, who are you to judge me?

You don't know me.

You don't control me.

You don't _own_ me.

_I _am special.

I'm pretty, I know that already;

I'm just born beautiful.

I'm smart, but I've trained myself for that.

I'm strong.

Fast.

Nimble.

I don't need anyone.

I'm too perfect for anyone.

They deserve the pain I bring.

It is wrong, isn't it?

It's wrong to like hurting people.

It's wrong to like the look of agony on his face whenever I bring the whip down.

But I'm a seductress.

I don't need you telling me what to do.

I get paid for this -that's all that matters.

Yes, this boy here, this _guy_, he likes it when I scratch out his initials with a double-edged knife.

He likes it when I slap him or dig my nails into his back.

Your opinion doesn't matter.

You're probably just a bitch, anyway.

I don't need you.

I'm only sadistic.

I bet a ton of other people are, too.

They're just afraid to let it show.

But him, _Him_, he's my toy.

He's a masochist.

I'm allowed to play with him.

You could die for all I care.

Bitch.

* * *

For those of you, _children_, who don't understand, Hotaru is looking to a mirror.

Yeah. So I know this could probably be very offensive to some people what with the profanity. *le shrug* What can I say? I just have a dirty imagination. Review?


	3. Nonoko: Inebriated

Hello again. Of course, it's just like me to update the story that (most) people don't care to read. So yeah. Thank you to those who do enjoy these drabble/poem things that I write with no real plotline. Yeah, uh, review if you want.

Back-story: Nonoko is just the opposite of goodie-two-shoes Anna.

* * *

Perfection Girls

Inebriated

I've always been a nerd.

Next to my classy sister, I pale in comparison.

I like weird things.

I admit to that.

Sorry.

I want to be as skinny as my sister.

As pretty as my sister.

As popular as my sister.

I can't.

I can't _be_ her.

I can _try_.

Nope.

Still plain.

Dark blue eyes mistaken so easily for the color black.

Ew.

Pale skin, resistant to any form of tan.

Disgusting.

Limp, lifeless hair,

Tinted a sickening shade of a black so, so _black_ it looks blue.

Black is a disgusting color.

Damn.

I was hopeless.

I cough a little bit, inhaling the scent of chemicals.

_Chemicals_.

I liked weird things.

I want to preserve my small, good girl image,

It's the only thing I have to offer the world.

The only thing I have to offer my family.

My friends.

_Anna_.

I'm sorry.

I inhale a little more.

A little longer.

A little deeper.

I'm sorry.

* * *

Uh-huh. So Nonoko does drugs. I'm sorry, but I just thought it fit, since, you know, she's a chemist. Yep, it's just me again; exercising my right to free speech. Blame America. Review? :)


	4. Rui: Masculinity

Uh, yeah. This particular poem is dedicated to my friend, jAyesque, for her suggestion on adding the male characters to this, this poem collection-thingie. Jesus, I make it sound like I'm so deep and shit. Ah well. Enjoy the poem.

Back-story: Rui Amane has always been a little feminine.

* * *

Perfection Girls

Masculinity 

You can interpret me anyway you'd like.

I'd prefer you call me a girl, though.

Girls are just better than boys.

Their single flaw is their feebleness.

Right?

They can never be as strong as a man.

They have no potential.

They're soft.

Quiet.

Reserved.

Or should be.

Girls are pretty.

Kind.

Soft.

Like flowers.

I wish I were truly a girl.

That'd be nice.

For someone to see me as soft and pretty.

Not as I am.

A boy.

Rough.

Much unlike a flower.

Maybe a Venus Fly Trap.

But I like boys too.

Well, I'm like a curse on people.

A freak.

They'll never want me.

Care for me.

Flowers are liked by just about everyone.

They smell nice.

If I smelled nice, would they like me?

No.

See?

I'm only a boy.

* * *

He's questioning his sexual identity, my lovelies.

I know the title says, Perfection _Girls_, but seriously? I can't believe you're asking me this. I do believe I have the right to insert some random _male_ character in a supposedly feminine poem collection that I just so happen to _own_. You, however, have the power to disagree and send me a flame in the form of a review. I, however, have the power to delete your comment and move on with my life. Get over the fact that, yes, I used Rui Amane, a feminine _male_, in this girl series. I may have offended, say, a thousand people with my contribution, but I don't plan on removing it unless it gets serious (as in I'm-gonna-get-sued serious). So, my dear readers, enjoy the short poem while you can and review.

Note: A thanks to everyone who is reviewing, anonymous or not. You are appreciated, even if I am dead asleep and can't be bothered with responding to you.


	5. Nobara: Paradise

Hah. Here's the latest poem, inspired by the band, Coldplay, and their awesome song, _Paradise_. Review if you want.

Back-story: Enter Nobara's world, where beauty is a myth.

* * *

Perfection Girls

Paradise

I was icy.

A fiend of sorts.

Disliked, but respected.

Disowned, but remembered.

I didn't have what others would call blessings.

I, however, had a ragtag group of friends that could barely be considered friends.

We were together because we were forced to be together;

No one else wanted us.

I doubted they even liked me.

I was younger by two years and never quite related to them.

I wasn't the type to forge relationships;

I was reserved.

But I still cared for them;

They helped me feel _less_ alone.

But, as all things do, we broke apart.

Couples paired off and left,

And, eventually, I was left alone.

Just like I first began.

I saw the fear and the hatred and the disgust,

Saw death, and lust, and crude lies,

Saw hope that never quite came through.

I died, _selfishly_,

Protected _them_ from my hapless lover.

I am selfish, you know?

And I understood him!

Loved him because no one else would love me!

Cracked and bloody, and scared, and sobbing incoherent apologies as he cradled me.

I wanted to stay, I really did.

Stay and thank Rui,

Stay and comfort Mikan,

Stay and hug Hayate,

Stay and love Rei.

Even if my friends weren't all that close,

Or if my family abandoned me,

Or if my boyfriend wasn't exactly sane.

But when I closed my eyes, I saw paradise.

* * *

So yeah. Clichéd ending, I know. For the most part, it sucks, but I really wanted to update today because I'm going to be MIA for another week. For anyone who didn't understand the poem-thing, Nobara was in a somewhat 'abusive' relationship with Rei (Persona). She dies, most likely, defending her friends or some sappy shit semi-related to that.

Yes, I put a lot of thought into this one. Review?


	6. Himemiya: Despised

Yep. Another poem to show that I am, indeed, alive. Happy New Year, even though it's practically February already.

Back-story: Middle School Principal Himemiya is a tad too vain.

* * *

Perfection Girls

Despised 

I've lived many a life.

I'm old now and am in need of a successor.

But I don't want to die.

I don't want to leave.

I don't want a successor.

They can't do a better job than I could do.

I'll always be the best.

No one can replace me.

So why do I see the stars fall?

Like fine dust and diamond shavings.

Like that imaginary love I've feigned for the better.

Like that sacred friendship I've concealed so carefully.

Men are like dogs.

Loyal, but following blindly.

Idiots of a sort.

I don't much care for their company.

They keep coming back, though.

Invading my sacred dwelling.

Women are far more intelligent.

They are to be composed and beautiful,

Smart and strong,

Classy and anything but promiscuous.

An epitome of grace and glory.

No one can be me.

No one can be that beautiful epitome like I can be.

So why am I growing old?

Why are there wrinkles around my eyes and falters in my step?

Am I not perfect enough?

Am I not worthy?

No, I am worthy.

Damn the mortality that comes with knowledge.

The mortality that invades me.

The men that invade me.

Everything.

I hate everything.

* * *

This poem hints at this mysterious woman's past, her harsh and hasty beginning. Though elegant and beautiful, she is still human, absorbed in herself and as vain as ever. It always seems like men are just too good for her. Though, maybe, there's a reason behind her hatred. Anyway, yeah. That's it. I know it's taken me, like, a while to update, but, who is really keeping track of this? I know I'm not. And it's not like any of you actually care. If you don't like the poem, no one is forcing you to read it. You know what writing a stupid flame makes you? An idiot. A stupid idiot. So get over yourself and do something productive with your life. Get a boyfriend. Lose some weight. Go buy that One Direction album you've secretly been dying to buy, but have been denying yourself because you don't want to seem uncool in front of your family, crushes, and friends. And you know what? Start that essay you've been needing to write or go do your homework. Idiot.

To anyone that reviewed the last chapter: Yeah, thanks.


	7. Narumi: Remnant

Have y'all noticed something? There's, like, an ongoing motif in my writing these poems. They're all, like...connected, as stupid as it sounds. It was completely unintentional, but, uh, kudos to mwah.

Back-story: Narumi-sensei's love towards Mikan's mother was always destructive.

* * *

Perfection Girls

Remnant 

I should not love the way she smiles.

Even though the world is crashing.

I should not love the way her fingers drum against her thigh when she's tired.

I should not love the way her eyes flicker when she's nervous.

I should not love the way she exits a room.

Even though she's leaving.

I should not love the way her hair touches the top of her shoulder.

I should not love the way her lips twitch at the slightest mention of anything funny.

I should not love the way she is honest and true to her word.

Even if she did swear to never come back.

I should not love the way her nails are never painted, yet always groomed.

I should not love the way her breaths are always deep and soothing.

I should not love the way she runs like she'll miss nothing.

Even if she doesn't need me to live.

I should not love the way her clothes are so simple.

I should not love the way her perfume is so crisp it goes unnoticed.

I should not love the way she sacrifices everything for the happiness of others.

Even if I'm the only one left unhappy.

I should not love the way her foot taps against the pavement whenever she wears heels.

I should not love the way her eyes close and her eyelashes brush her cheeks.

I should not love the way she keeps herself at a distance.

Even if it means never getting to know her.

I should not love the way her scent is unique like citrus and smoke.

I should not love the way her tongue runs over her lips right before she speaks.

I should not love the way she looks at me and opens her mouth.

Even if she only does that to tell me to go away.

I'm sorry, Yuka-sempai.

My biggest crime falling in love with a girl who does not care for me.

My biggest crime is falling in love with you.

* * *

What the f*ck is wrong with me? It's like, sappiness, dead kittens, and women empowerment all in one. That goes for all of the poems. Has anyone noticed how women are given a spotlight in these poems? I mean, sure the title is all, "Perfection _Girls_," but I feel as though I'm leading the idea in a strange direction. Oh well. Deal with it. Review?


	8. Kokoro: Beauty

Yes, this poem-thingie is actually quite similar to Narumi's poem-thingie in the previous chapter. Don't judge.

Back-story: Kokoro's in love with an uninterested Sumire.

* * *

Perfection Girls

Beauty

When I talk to her,

I fell happy.

Even if she isn't looking at me.

Even if her face is covered by the September Issue of Vogue.

Even if she doesn't care about me as much as I care about her.

And when she gives me that cold look that tells me to shut up,

That tells me that she doesn't want to talk to me,

That tells me that I'm completely irrelevant in her life,

As small as a flea in her life of glamour and popularity,

I smile, because, at least, she looks at me.

Her eyes, green like grass,

Like emeralds,

Like jealousy,

And the salad she always insists on eating,

Tell me to leave her be.

I don't look at her eyes anymore.

Her forehead,

Unblemished,

Unwrinkled,

Smooth,

Is creased with irritancy.

I look away.

Her hair is as black as charcoal,

Like night and shadows,

Like the chess pieces on the left side of the board,

Like dahlias.

She flicks her hair to her other shoulder.

I worship her body.

Her lovely curves.

Her dainty hands and feet.

Her manicured nails and lotion-ed skin.

Her flat stomach and bubble butt.

Her breasts and her knees and her elbows and her wrists.

I look at her lips.

A delicate curve.

A slight screw.

A burst of bright red.

She smirks.

Talks to me.

Tells me that I'm sweet, but I'm not her type,

But someone else is.

Her eyes, her _beautiful_ eyes,

Stray to the side,

The left side, where the black chess pieces are,

And looks at Natsume Hyuuga.

I know I've lost, but I smile,

Because, at least,

She thinks I'm sweet.

* * *

A-huh. Because there is always that painful moment when you realize the your love is unrequited. A tribute to the hearts that I've broken. For you, Mark, wherever you are. I'll always regret losing you.


	9. Goshima: Throne

Uh...it's sort of okay. Yeah, don't judge me.

Back-story: Goshima Hijiri always had his reasons.

* * *

Perfection Girls

Throne 

It kind of hurt.

A little bit.

The looks in the hallways,

The passerby's shove,

And that small tumble that caused a moment's laughter;

You had it coming

And all because you wanted to see your parents again.

How stupid was that?

The move that compromised your queen in a game of chess.

The move that decapitated the last of your pawns, that single bishop, and the two rooks on the board.

The king stands alone.

But that's the thing;

In this particular game of chess, you aren't the king;

You are his humble knight,

Scared and unable to do anything, but obey the king.

The king, ironically, is your old elementary school teacher;

The man with a single knight at his disposal,

The man who has all of the power.

So you change your mask and hide from confrontation,

Only to come out and kill another pawn on the other side.

White ivory,

An exterior much more appealing that your black crystal.

You abhor it.

You're a murderer, now;

There's nothing now that can change that can cleanse the blood stains on your hands.

You can only atone so much before you realize that,

Through some sort of loss and clarity,

That you are unclean, unnecessary, and unwanted.

So you die for your king,

If only to prove that, maybe,

You're worth something to someone.

You burn, and you wonder if it was worth it,

To die for someone who thinks of you as a pawn when you're sure that you're a knight.

He belittles you, but you just want to go home.

You want it all to end,

But you also want to leave a legacy that no one else can fulfill.

You died for this man, so,

Maybe,

No one else will have to.

It didn't _really_ hurt.

* * *

Not my best, I know. Review? :)


	10. Natsume: Heroes

Whoop. This poem's a bit...weird. My excuse? I was, like, disoriented when I wrote it.

Back-story: Natsume's distorted angst.

* * *

Perfection Girls

Heroes 

Crown of thorns on my head.

Nail me to your cross.

I won't die.

Let me bleed.

Let me fly.

I'll be king of the sky.

You'll be my queen.

We can escape just for a moment.

We can hide.

We can run.

Time in my back pocket.

Love in the front.

You'll take your lily petals and throw them in their faces.

They'll be the ones crying now.

Stepping on butterflies.

Float me to heaven.

Drag me to hell.

Press a gun to my temple.

Push me against a wall.

Burn me.

Hurt me.

I love you.

I'll do anything.

Sob me a goodbye.

Steal my heart.

Smile forever.

* * *

Review or something. Yeah?


	11. Luna: Vulgarity

Amen for freedom of speech. Rated T for kinky-sexy language and other fucked-up shit. Shout outs to all parents who disapprove of mwah. I almost love you, too. Not really. Eff off. Have fun? Yeah, not really doing it for me.

Back-story: Luna's a little fed up.

* * *

Perfection Girls

Vulgarity

It doesn't matter how much you love them.

All that matters is how much they hate you.

In the end,

You die.

We all die,

Actually.

But your death is the only one that doesn't matter.

You're the pathetic one.

Atone all you want.

Skank.

Whore.

Bitch.

You're just a blow doll.

Nasty.

You're his toy.

Disgusting.

Ew.

Do his bidding.

Sing for him.

Damn mockingbird.

Fuck you,

Eating your fucking chicken like you fucking own the place.

Your fucking candy, too

Trying to be a kid again?

Young once more?

Eat your fucking sweet tooth's death.

Be crazy for them.

They want you to be the bad guy.

Be a crazy bitch.

You know why?

Because if you're the bad guy,

Then,

They're the good guy.

Die, will you?

For me?

Maybe.

One day.

Fuck it.

* * *

Er...yeah. There's a lot of cuss words in this one. And it really sucks. Maybe some of you will notice the linkage to that one movie with that one chick and her friend's mother's father. Review if you remember what it's called. You know, or something.


	12. Mochiage: Reverie

Cheep. I personally like this one. It may be weird and it sounds like I was high when I wrote it, but I just like it.

Back-story: Mochiage's adult life after graduation.

* * *

Perfection Girls

Reverie 

Cracks spread like spider webs.

Never alone.

Spin your silk like shit.

Swim in an ocean of tulips.

Drown a bit.

Hum a song like rabies.

Some band you don't know.

Awaken to monotone.

Shades of black and gold.

Moral compass leading to Neverland.

Pay a bill or two.

Write something awful.

Flirt with women who don't care.

Fuck them.

Eat something wormy.

Swallow it whole.

Imagine it sweet.

Destroy something beautiful.

Lie because it's fun.

Steal even though you have money.

Casual sex every Tuesday.

Die with a wink.

Run towards a twisted happiness.

Crumble with each step.

Freedom has a price,

But you're paying double.

* * *

Freaky, right? I thought so, too. I wonder what possessed me to upload this. Whatever. Review, if you care to.


	13. Persona: Marionette

El sigh. I don't really expect anything from you readers. Just know that.

Back-story: Persona's irreligious sanctum cradles his scarred psyche.

* * *

Perfection Girls

Marionette

I'll send you

A bouquet of barbed wire

If you blow me a kiss.

I'll return your

Pretentious embrace

With a knife to your back.

An innocent smile

With a sneer.

I hope you burn.

I hope you suffer.

I hope you sob your wretched sobs.

I hope your heart shatters.

I hope your soul disintegrates.

I hope you die.

I don't want to see your face.

You're nothing but a liar.

You hurt me;

I hurt you.

Don't you like playing this game?

It's fun,

Is it not?

You used me first.

You played with me first.

You made me a puppet,

My limbs on strings

My mouth sewn shut.

You called me a monster.

But I was your monster.

A fucking puppet on a vinyl recording.

I'm nothing,

If not yours.

And you know what,

Kuonji?

One day,

I'll kill everyone.

And,

You know what else?

It'll be

All

Your

Fault.

* * *

Sorry if it sucked. Review or don't review. Thanks.


	14. Shiki: Insipid

Choo. I got a review from an old fan. Check it out. It actually made me happy to read it. Yeah, and, if you're still there, here's your dedication poem-thingie.

Back-story: Shiki's bored and regretful and pessimistic and depressed, like a bratty teenager.

* * *

Perfection Girls

Insipid

I don't think about consequences.

I felt kind of bad.

I still feel bad.

And now,

I feel kind of numb.

I wonder if that is normal.

To be so detached from your own life,

So uninterested in the small details,

The fun things,

The mistakes.

I wonder if these people

I call my friends

Actually like me.

I wonder if these people

I call my family

Actually care about me.

I wonder if this person

I call mine

Actually loves me.

It's okay to have hate.

It's okay to have indifference.

It's okay to have angst.

Just remember some things.

Emotions are for the weak.

Love is for the stupid.

Attachment is for the masochistic.

Pleasure is for the glutton.

Vanity is for the mirror.

Death is for the exposed.

* * *

For the record, the reason I added the 'Whatever' part to the end of the last poem was that I'm just oh-so bored. I mean, it's not like I get paid to write here. It's free. Everything's free. I just want my work to be out there. No need to review or anything. Just, somehow, let me know if you've read what I've written. Um-kahy? Thanks.


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